Nothing More Dangerous
by Aesop
Summary: The struggle to stop Voldmeort takes an unexpected turn with terrible consesquences for all.  AU. Deathly Hallows spoilers.  Dark fic.


NOTHING MORE DANGEROUS

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters or ideas. No profit is earned.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This contains SPOILERS FOR HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS. It goes AU at an indeterminate point in the book. WARNING: Dark fic. Character death.

He had been chosen as the leader of his people, and he couldn't just stand by while they were threatened. No matter what the 'others' had told him or would like him to believe. They were not helpless; the notion was simply inconceivable to him. He might not have magic, but he did have knowledge, and that was a beginning. He knew what was happening and soon other people would too, the right people. Taking what precautions he could, and it galled him having to sneak around in this manner, he made his way to a particular office, to a meeting with a particular minister.

OOOOOOOOOO

Ryan Banks had believed that the day he got his Hogwarts letter was the best day of his life. It meant a whole new life and world of opportunities for him. He got to leave the small farm and the unassuming village behind. Great things lay ahead. No one in Hufflepuff had given him any grief over being muggle-born, and despite the sneers of the Slytherins he had convinced himself it didn't matter. Seven years after graduation, he longed for that small farm and unassuming village.

He was all too willing to help, even knowing what it might cost him. The Death Eaters and their Ministry stooges had already taken everything; his job, his home, his family, everything that had once mattered to him. He had nothing to lose, and such men, the Wizarding world was about to learn, were dangerous.

Nodding to his new associates, he moved into position. He would do his part, and then, they would do theirs.

OOOOOOOOOO

"Welcome to Potterwatch, everyone. We only have time for a brief broadcast tonight, but I've got some exciting news." Lee Jordan's voice had an odd edge to it, and the current inhabitants of Shell Cottage glanced around at each other, all wondering what news could excite and unnerve their friend at the same time. "You all know about the taboo set up by You-know-who. Anyone speaking his name is immediately attacked and either killed or hauled off to Azkaban. Lately, though, that name seems to be just as dangerous for the Snatches as it is for the rest of us. We don't have any details at this point, but there has been confirmation of an ambush. Apparently, someone called out the name and when the Snatches arrived, they were attacked. Well, I say to whoever is doing it, Bravo!"

Harry looked around at the others, trying gauge their reaction. For his own part, he wasn't sure how to feel. He detested the idea of killing like that, but he had absolutely no pity for Death Eaters or those that had thrown in with them.

"We'll stay on top of this story and share more details as they come in. Keep checking for us. The next password is Fawkes."

OOOOOOOOOO

Two nights later, they were again gathered around the small wireless. "Welcome to Potterwatch everyone, I'm River, your host. There have been two more ambushes, and this time we have more details for you. So far, these attacks have killed 14 Snatches." His tone became troubled. "There are, however, very few details. The Ministry is being very careful with this information, for some reason. All that Order members were able to learn was that the way in which they were killed has the higher-up's in the Ministry agitated. We'll bring you more details as we get them."

His tone grew grave, as he began the next story. "Attacks on muggles have escalated. An apartment complex in Bristol was destroyed by what muggle authorities are calling an 'electrical fire,' but we have confirmed that the dark arts were used to both trap the residents, more than a thirty people, and start the fire."

The rest of the news that night wasn't much better.

OOOOOOOOOO

"Welcome to Potterwatch," Lee Jordan's voice emerged from the wireless not quite a week later. "We've gotten more details as the attacks on Death Eaters and Snatches continue. They're becoming more wary, but it hasn't stopped the attacks from being successful. At the last two attacks, it has been confirmed that dozens of small metal cup-like objects were found. Muggle experts in the Order have told us they are called shell cases."

Hermione gasped and glanced around. Harry was equally shocked, but the others simply looked confused. She decided to enlighten them later, though, as Lee pressed on.

"They are, the experts tell us, unmistakable signs of the use of muggle weapons. Royal is here with us tonight with more details."

"Thank you, River. This is a grave situation indeed, and one we couldn't have anticipated. Based on the type and number of shell cases left behind, our expert tells us that the attackers were using attymatic weapons. Apparently, these weapons send small pieces metal at high speed to a target. The bodies of the Snatches and Death Eaters were riddled with the small holes that these bits of metal leave behind." He broke off; sounding more unsettled than any of them could recall the seasoned Auror ever being.

"There can be no doubt," the normally calm, implacable man continued, "muggles have joined the war. It is still unclear whether the British government is involved or if this is some private action, but it almost doesn't matter. The reprisals against muggle targets have already begun, and they will only get worse."

"How do you think this happened, Royal?"

"The Ministry has been targeting muggle-born witches and wizards. With their wands and rights in the magical community taken away, it is only reasonable to assume that some might turn to muggle relatives or authorities with what they know. The Ministry left them no alternative."

"Precisely how bad is this, Royal?"

"Worst case scenario? Britain's entire wizard population is a fraction of one percent of the muggle population. Even with magic on our side, that's bad odds."

OOOOOOOOOO

Yaxley led the charge that night. A rumor had reached him that a group of Order of the Phoenix members was hiding in a small house on the outskirts of Brighton. The information had a rather dubious source, he thought, but the Dark Lord had given orders that no lead should be ignored. He wanted the blood traitors dug out of whatever hole they were hiding in and made a public example of.

Voldemort was leaving the day-to-day business of governing Britain to his followers, but he still made it clear on a regular basis that he was very much in charge. The previous week, two minor Death Eaters had displeased him in some way, Yaxley wasn't sure how, but the master had tortured and killed them before an assembly of his inner circle. Such was his power and such was the fear he inspired, that reminders like that weren't needed often, but he seemed to have an uncanny knack for knowing when they were needed.

It made little difference to Yaxley; his ambitions had limits and he had reached them. He had gold, a fine home, all the comforts he could want, and he loved his work. Tracking down the mudbloods and watching them squirm under interrogation brought him endless enjoyment. Their fear was like a drug. He had no desire to rise higher, let alone take power himself. Who would want the work? Or the endless enemies it would bring him? No. He was happy. Of course, he would be happier if he could present a batch of blood traitors to the Dark Lord for execution. He focused his wandering thoughts on the house before him.

It was a simple, muggle-looking place, but they had determined that several protective charms had been laid about the perimeter, confirming the presence of wizards. The drapes were all drawn tight, but a spell had already revealed that there were several people inside.

"Move in." The curt command set the group of Death Eaters and Snatches in motion. The wards were easily battered down, and the front and back doors were less of a challenge. At first, he thought they had been fooled in some manner. There was no resistance. If it was a simple muggle dwelling, he promised, he'd take out his frustrations on the lowborn animals living there, then he'd find their 'source' and teach him not to waste the Death Eaters' time.

"Yaxley! In here." Morton's call brought Yaxley and the others, who had finished searching the rest of the house, to a small bedroom. The room was empty save for several people sitting on the floor. "Lumos," Morton lit his wand and examined the scene more carefully. Three people in wizard robes were sitting in a tight circle, all bound and gagged. "What is this?" Morton asked. "Someone do our job for us?"

Yaxley frowned behind his mask. This made no sense. They weren't Order members; in fact, one of them was a Snatch that worked with that beast, Greyback. He looked at the other two. One was unfamiliar, but the other was a woman that he had interrogated as part of his work at the Ministry, a mudblood. The woman in question looked up at him, terrified, and tried to speak through her gag. She looked past him and did her best to gesture toward the ceiling. He looked up and took in the curious arrangement of muggle devices there. A large metal box was bolted to the ceiling and next to it something that had a lens, almost like a camera. It was moving back and forth as if watching the group.

OOOOOOOOOO

The small house was isolated, but the nearest neighbor, almost a mile away, still clearly heard the explosion, and a quick call brought a fire truck as well as police to the scene. Their initial findings indicated a bomb of some sort, and a total of eight bodies were pulled from the rubble. It was quickly determined, though, after a visit from a Ministry official that no one could quite remember, that there had only been two bodies, and that the destruction had been caused by a faulty gas stove.

OOOOOOOOOO

"We have more information on the apparent entrance of muggles into the war. Several more of You-know-who's followers were killed in an explosion at a muggle home they were raiding. Among the dead was one of his inner circle. This has been confirmed, but there are other reports that have not been confirmed. Disappearances and deaths have been up this week, many of them have been supporters of the Chief Death Eater, but more and more seem to be innocent wizards and witches." After a pause, he continued. "We now turn to Royal for his take on this situation."

"Thank you, River." Kingsley's deep voice contained an uncommon note of worry. "The situation is grave and growing worse. 'Apparent' is the wrong word. The only conclusion that can be drawn from these events is that the muggles have entered the war. The use of muggle weapons, 'guns' and explosives, leave no doubt of this. They began by targeting Death Eaters and other supporters of You-Know-Who, and I must salute their inventive tactics, but their focus seems to be widening to include Wizards and Witches in general. It's just gotten a lot more dangerous out there, folks, and we've seen the results when Death Eaters retaliate. Attacks on muggles have increased dramatically, since this began. It has become even more important to take steps to protect muggles. I've said it before and I'll say it again, a simple protective charm can save lives, and may help those targeting us to realize that we are not all their enemies."

"Well said, Royal," Lee answered. "How do you suppose that these muggles are targeting wizards, let alone Death Eaters, so precisely?"

"I don't know, River. I can only guess, as I did on a previous broadcast, that they have help. When the Ministry began targeting muggle-borns, they created a new underclass. With no help in the Wizarding world, some of them must have turned to muggle relatives for help. So many of the muggle-borns have had everything taken away from them. They may feel they have nothing left to lose, and an enemy with nothing to lose is the most dangerous thing in the world."

"A disturbing thought, Royal. If you could speak to the muggle-born involved, or even to the muggles carrying out these attacks, what would you say?"

"I'd tell them that their actions have consequences, and not just for them. You-Know-Who is already retaliating on a small scale. No matter how well you hide yourselves, it won't matter. It won't matter because he doesn't care. He won't discriminate. Any random muggle could be a target. Think of your friends and neighbors who are taking no part in the fight and how they could suffer for your actions. Leave this to wizards to settle. Please."

"Thank you, Royal. That's about all the time we have for Potterwatch tonight. Keep twiddling those dials. The next password is mad-eye."

The wireless fell silent, and the people at the table looked around at each other, speechless.

"I didn't see this coming," Bill finally broke the silence.

"None of us did," Harry answered, "but we should have."

"What can we do about it?" Ron asked. "They've got no way of knowing whose friend or foe."

"As they see it, Ron," Hermione answered morosely. "We're all the enemy. I think that ending this quickly, getting rid of You-Know-Who, is the best thing we can do. Concentrate on that, get that done, and things will settle down…. I hope."

Harry nodded. "We have to move up the time-table. I think we're as ready as we're going to be." The other two nodded solemnly.

OOOOOOOOOO

Tom looked up as a raggedly dressed woman shuffled through the London entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. It was one of the wandless. A muggleborn whose wand had been seized by the Ministry on the ridiculous premise that it had been stolen. The lucky ones avoided Azkaban and were simply left to beg in the streets. They had become the new bottom class, unable to support themselves in the Wizarding world without magic and unable to get by in the muggle world that so many had left behind when they were children.

He watched her pass on through to Diagon Alley, feeling helpless. Hate the situation though he might, he wasn't prepared to risk his own neck fighting the Death Eaters or even draw attention to himself by helping the wandless. It was cowardice, he told himself bitterly, pure and simple, and the truth shamed him, but not to the point of action.

Tom told himself that he should be grateful that the woman had not come in a few moments earlier, while Lestrange had been there. The mad Death Eater might well have killed her on sight. He could only hope that the muggle-born woman escaped notice once out in the alley.

OOOOOOOOOO

Hermione tried her best to get into character. People were afraid of her and that was normal. She was, for the moment, Bellatrix Lestrange. However much it might disturb her seeing the beggars melt into the shadows to escape her notice, it was normal. She reassured herself that that would all change once Voldemort was beaten. The reminder of their goal and the presence of Ron by her side and Harry, following invisibly a step behind, gave her strength and she pushed on, putting the same sneer on her face that she remembered the mad witch wearing.

"My children!" a man with a bloody bandage was staggering toward her, pointing with a shaking hand. "Where are my children? What has he done with them? You know, _you know!_"

Ignoring her protests, he lunged for her, only to be knocked back by Ron's stunning spell. Shocked by the attack and the reason for it, it took her a moment to regain her composure. She managed, barely in time.

"Why, Madam Lestrange!" The arrival of another Death Eater only served to complicate matters. Travers would leave if she told him too, or threatened him, but Harry whispered to her from under his cloak, and she agreed that it was better to have him where they could keep an eye on him. _That doesn't mean I have to like it_.

As they walked, he commented casually on the wizards and witches left to beg in the streets. Hermione did her best to hide her dismay at their situation, but Travers' nattering and his spiteful impression of the witch who had tried to ask for his help made her seethe inside.

OOOOOOOOOO

Travers and Lestrange! This was a stroke of luck. The irony of that sentiment made her smile. Most days, Maggie Harkness wouldn't want anything to do with Death Eaters, but today was special. She reviewed her life briefly as she shuffled toward them. The fall of the Ministry and the installation of the puppet, Thicknesse, had been just the beginning. It had barely seemed real at the time, too improbable. The muggle-born registration act, her arrest and imprisonment had made it all personal, all real. She had expected to be thrown into Azkaban, made fodder for the dementors.

Maggie shuddered at the notion, and the knowledge of how close she had come to realizing that fear. If it hadn't been for Ryan and those muggle soldiers, that was how she would have ended. Her life and freedom, however, hadn't been a blessing. It took only a few days to learn the fate of her family. Stuart, her husband, was dead. Murdered for speaking out against the arrests. Her son, Tyler, had been arrested, just as she had been, but he hadn't been able to escape. The dementors had fed on him.

_Nothing left_, she thought bitterly. _Nothing left, but the one chance those muggles gave me. And I'll make the best of it_.

OOOOOOOOOO

"A few knuts, kind sirs?"

Hermione looked around and saw the woman limping toward them. It was another wandless, another victim of Voldemort's evil.

Travers just sneered at the sight. "You dare speak to your betters?" He drew his wand. "Go now, and I won't hex you for your rudeness."

Hermione wanted to intervene, but couldn't without breaking character. She couldn't even glance over at Ron and Harry for support, as it wasn't something Bellatrix Lestrange would do. She simply watched with feigned boredom while the Death Eater threatened the beggar.

"A gift then, sir," the woman simpered. "Let me give you a gift."

"Gift?" Travers regarded the woman in confusion.

"Yes, sir." The woman, who had been hunched over with her shawl drawn tightly about her shoulders, suddenly straightened and allowed the garment to fall open.

Hermione had just enough time to see and understand the significance of the brick of gray-brown substance and the electronic components strapped to the woman's chest. The small LED screen lacked a display, but it didn't need one. The woman had a small control box in her hand, and was pressing the only button.

THE END


End file.
